Parallels
by Scripturiens
Summary: They existed in separate planes and there, they could not touch. [Michi. Taiyako. Miyakari.]


**Disclaimer:** Despite my true wishes, Digimon still does not belong to me.

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 **Notes:** Originally written in Spanish, the piece can be read as it is, or following the Roman numerals for their correct chronological order. The choice is up to the reader, of course.

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 **VIII.**

Every night before sleeping, she sat in front of her mirror and brushed her long hair. Taichi liked watching her, even if it was just for a few moments, just for the simple pleasure of doing so. There was something therapeutic about the action, and he thought it was romantic in a way, that her princess attitudes would translate into real habits. After all, there was no-one in his life who could really _own_ that air of royalty better than Tachikawa Mimi.

Her hands were small, with long, thin fingers. The brush she used had been a present from her mother, an antique in sterling silver and ornate roses on the back. On her hands and with the long robe she wore over her sleeping clothes, Mimi looked like something plucked out of a fairytale. He blinked slowly; sometimes it was difficult to believe she was real.

With eyes the colour of the sun, Mimi looked at him through the mirror, a tiny smile hidden in the right corner of her lips. When he realised it, the brunet shook his head and gave her a half-smile.

"Is there something wrong?" Mimi asked, arching an elegant brow.

"You're beautiful," Taichi answered. "Have I told you?"

"Only a million times," she said, but though she laughed, Taichi could see the effect of his words in the delicate shade of pink on her cheeks. To know that after so long he could still affect her, was satisfying, in a way.

Leaning against the wall, Taichi crossed his arms before closing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands were on her frail shoulders and she tilted her head to one side, kissing his lips. It was a soft kiss, and it tasted like the cocoa and mint balm she wore before sleep. Taichi licked his lips and barely brushed her arms with the tips of his long fingers as he withdrew from their embrace.

"I'll call you," he said. "Good night, Mi."

 **I.**

They had been sitting in silence for a while, waiting for his sister to be ready. In all honesty, he had forgotten how slow Hikari could be at times. He hadn't realised he'd been watching her for a while until he moved and felt his leg had gone numb. He groaned, and the object of his admiration turned, letting her long, straight hair fall off her shoulders.

"Something happened?" she asked. Taichi denied it quickly, hiding the blush in his cheeks under a low curse.

"Cramp," he explained between his teeth, "It's nothing."

"Taichi! A cramp isn't _nothing_ ," the girl let out, jumping off the couch to help him. Without being able to stop her she knelt before him, taking her calf between her hands and stretching his leg at once, massaging the muscle without missing a beat. "You can seriously get hurt if you don't treat it at once, you _know_ that."

"Miyako, _stop_ ," he let out, embarrassed. "I know but, calm down, won't you?" he closed his fingers around her wrist, effectively taking her hand away from his leg. The contact lasted a few seconds longer than it should've and, upon releasing her, he could feel the tips of his fingers prickling. Miyako hesitated for a few seconds but then avoided his gaze and stood, making a point to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt.

"It wasn't a big deal," he said softly, "but thank you."

"Don't mention it," she assured him. "Sorry, for being hysterical. I'm used to it, you know, because of Ken."

"Ah, of course," he chuckled. "Ichijouji is lucky to have someone taking care of him like that."

Miyako smiled, her cheeks flushing pink. She ran her hands through her hair, twisting it quickly into a long braid that she let loose over her shoulder. Taichi watched it like she had taken something from him, like someone whose lights get turned off in the middle of reading a book.

"You should wear it loose," he said. "It looks good on you."

Her fingers stopped playing with the tips of her braid, watching him curiously. Taichi offered her another small, clandestine smile, before turning towards his phone. In an instant his face softened, his eyes shining in that way she had seen several times, long before he answered.

"Hello, Mi? How are you?"

 _Laughter._

"No, don't worry. I wasn't doing anything important."

Without turning to see her, Taichi left to the balcony, closing the crystal door behind him. Miyako watched him through the glass for a moment, then sighed.

 _Nothing important._

 **IX.**

There was something in her that drew men in, some secret that they all seemed to know but her. Miyako remembered the day she met her, so many years ago. Everything about her had fascinated her—her hair, her clothes, the way she drew herself so proudly and how her smile could disarm anyone. She remembered thinking she'd give _anything_ to have a sister like her because, to Miyako, Mimi made everything around her more beautiful. Years later, that perception would change substantially.

The café where they met was a popular one; just the sort of place Mimi liked. The tables were small and round, the chairs metallic and with complicated patterns that adorned everything with a rustic, elegant touch. Miyako jiggled her foot while she stirred her creamy drink. Beside her, Hikari sipped her tea, thin lips kissing the cup in a way that made Miyako sigh and look away.

"So there's a date," Mimi said with a smile. "You'll be the most beautiful bride, Sora."

On her side, the redhead blushed prettily, turning her attention towards her warm tea and laughing under her breath.

"Only because _you're_ not getting married yet," she said, amused. "I always thought you'd be the first." She was looking at her with her elbow on the table, her cheek resting on her palm. Mimi laughed—and the place was full, suddenly, with the fresh sound of her laughter, making Miyako and the others linger on her for a few more seconds. It was too easy, too impossible not to fall for her...

"No, that's more like you, I think. I'm not sure we're that kind of couple," she stretched her legs under the table, languid and with moves more feline than she'd like to admit. She looked at ease, spoke so casually, she _almost_ believed her.

"You don't plan to marry Taichi?" Miyako asked, brows arching high. Mimi shrugged, taking a little whipped cream from her cup onto her straw. Even the most innocent actions, she thought, had an air of decadence with her.

"I don't know," she answered. "It's not something we've discussed yet."

"But you will," Hikari smiled. "There's no-one better than you for my brother, Mimi."

"Stop," she giggled, "You're making me nervous!"

"Well, we really _should_ focus on Sora and Jyou. After all, they _are_ getting married."

Miyako chose not to comment on the blush in her cheeks and that special glow her eyes had when she heard Hikari's words, nor on the way her smile remained intact for the rest of the afternoon. They rapidly fell into plans, questions, temporary dreams and illusions for the first in their group to tie the knot. The conversation flowed easily and though they didn't touch on Mimi's relationship's future, Miyako would still be thinking about it, many hours later.

They said good-bye after a few drinks and a dessert or two, shaking hands, kissing cheeks, promising phone-calls and lunch dates and wedding-planning-business. When Hikari took her hand, Miyako laced her fingers with hers, trying to find something familiar in the action.

"D'you really think they'll get married?"

Hikari turned to her, curious.

"Sora and Jyou? Yeah."

"Taichi, and Mimi."

"Hm, well, I do hope so. They make a beautiful couple, don't you think?"

"The best," Miyako said with a nervous little laugh, nodding too enthusiastically though Hikari seemed not to notice.

 **II.**

She had always seen him like something impossible. He was her best friend's older brother, captain of her best friend's football team, the idol of whom would later become her boyfriend. Taichi was many different things to many different people, but he was no one special for Miyako. He was just a nice presence at parties, comforting in adventures, familiar, over anything else. They were friends by association, because they supposed that hanging out with the same people somehow made them close, even if there was so little in common between them.

The whisper of a friendship that they had strengthened after his return for summer vacations. He was around the house more and Miyako, who visited Hikari often, found herself enjoying what little time they shared between outings and committments with everyone else. They began sharing the ends of movies, or re-runs of old series on the TV while she waited for Hikari or he, for Yamato; then there were comments about things they may have missed watching. Slowly, it evolved to sharing links to things they found interesting; _'Could I borrow that book?'_ , _'You have got to see this'._ Suddenly, they were making plans to go out, visit places, make lunch together.

Then _she_ came.

Miyako watched how, out of the blue, she had been replaced by Mimi's return. The elder Yagami's time was occuppied almost exclusively by her, but it wasn't just him, it was everyone; Koushiro, Jyou, Yamato, Takeru—even Daisuke, _her Daisuke_ , and Ken were giving her their attention, all their time at her disposal. Sora was always with her and Hikari was always making plans with her, and Miyako was only too happy to be included and be able to share so much with the girl she wanted to be, to realise how much she had liked her time with Taichi.

 **X.**

"You're really going to do it," he mused, watching his friend with an amused expression.

"I think it's time, don't you?"

Yamato shrugged, taking the bottle to his lips. Before him, Taichi played nervously with his bottle, turning it between his fingers before long, slow gulps. In all the years he had known him, there were few moments where he had been as nervous as he was now. Touched by a momentary weakness, his mocking smile softened.

"We can look for it together," he said, "in case you—,"

Taichi stopped playing with his bottle, drowning back its contents.

"Thank you," he said. "It's always good to have a feminine opinion in these things."

The blond rolled his eyes, scoffing softly before taking another swig. It was impossible to be serious with Taichi, and he knew that. Mimi was definitely a _saint_ for standing him, and he'd try to remember mentioning it next time he saw her.

"Have you even talked about it?" he asked, signalling the waiter for two more bottles.

Taichi ran a hand through thick, dark locks, massaging his neck absently, brown eyes fixed on his friend.

"Not really. I mean, we've talked about ... _things._ The future. There's always one, vaguely. But it's never been solid, not like Jyou and Sora."

"Well, we can't all be like them," Yamato mused softly. "They're practically married since they started going out, and you—," he paused, finding a way to place it mildly, "—you're different."

Different was a way to say it, sure. Taichi had been hung up on Mimi for years, since she still lived in New York. All of his relationships had failed partly because he kept harbouring some tiny hope that she'd come back and when she did, he wasted no time in turning that into a reality. Since then, they had been like a couple just begun; but at least it kept him off his back ... mostly.

"I don't want to wait anymore," Taichi said, thanking the young waiter for their drinks. He uncorked the bottle, taking a generous drink that refreshed him, washing down the bitter taste in his tongue. "I mean, I know what I want. There's no point pretending I don't, I guess," and he was trying to sound casual, matter-of-factly, but Yamato knew that he had thought about this more than he let on.

"Then...?"

"Then, I'll see you on Friday. We can make a weekend out of it."

"Taichi?"

"Go to Kyoto—,"

"Taichi."

"Yokohama—,"

 _"Taichi!"_

"What? You don't like Yokohama?"

Yamato sighed, his hand rising to his forehead while Taichi laughed between drinks.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I just have no idea where to start, it's driving me _crazy_."

"You could ask Sora," the blond said, pointing at him with a half-empty bottle. "Surely she's got access to all kinds of exclusive jewellery," he shrugged. "Sounds like something she'd like, right?"

In hindsight, Taichi wouldn't be able to tell why he didn't think of that one first. Smiling, he leaned forward on the table to pinch one of Yamato's pale cheeks, moving him side to side for three whole seconds.

"This is why you're my best friend," he said. "You make my life easier."

Slapping his hand away and then caressing his own reddened cheek, Yamato glared dangerously at him through semi-feline pupils.

"A decision I question daily," he said without remorse. Taichi feigned (or perhaps it wasn't entirely feigned) to be hurt, taking a hand to his chest.

"You hurt me, Ishida."

"I cannot _wait_ until you're someone else's problem," he let out, watching him out of the corner of his eye. His face had softened and his tan cheeks had acquired a thin, ruddy blush.

"You'll miss me, we both know that. Just in case, I'll give you a detailed schedule of our honeymoon."

Yamato smiled, but this time his features were a lot more feral. "Why are you so sure she'll say yes?"

The look on his face though, made him spend the rest of the afternoon regretting saying such a thing.

 **III.**

The first time he saw her without her glasses, he was surprised at how different she looked. Her face was thin, her delicate factions roughened by the size of her spectacles. Her hair was long, and straight and very fine, and in the sun it shone in tones of magenta, violet, soft lilac. He found himself following the trace of her figure, her long legs and arms and how she wrapped herself so naturally around Ichijouji's body. Not wanting to be caught staring, Taichi turned elsewhere.

Next to him, Hikari was making up a list of things he had to buy, knowing very well her brother would get everything that caught his eye otherwise.

"How long have Ken and Miyako been together?" he heard himself ask.

"Eight months," Hikari answered without hesitation. "A year and a half, if you count the tiem in which they dated and refused to admit they did. Two years, if you count the time when they ended up all over each other despite saying they couldn't stand the other. And a _little_ longer, if you count the time Miyako—,"

"That's enough, 'Kari," Taichi scoffed. "It was a simple question, I don't need _details_ about their relationship."

"Yes, well, me neither," the girl scoffed back. "Yet here we are."

Taichi placed a hand on her head and patted softly, messing up her hair.

"I think I'll go out," he said, ignoring the look Inoue gave him as he walked past. "Be good."

 **XI.**

Taichi slept placidly next to her, one arm under the pillow and the other one wrapped around her waist. Mimi watched him silently, admiring the little details that in public, they wouldn't catch her staring at. Taichi had a small scar on his left brow, a memento of years back, when Mimi had thrown a keychain to his head. Honestly, she hadn't _meant_ to hit him; he just had been too clumsy to catch it.

With one finger she traced it softly, stopping when she felt him move. Taichi opened his eyes slowly, hiding a yawn on the pillow. His eyes sought for her silently and she felt something bloom in her chest when he brought her closer, whispering words she barely registered before they joined in a warm kiss.

After all this time, it still felt like the first time.

 **IV.**

She was the first person she sought. Miyako was a bundle of nerves, a disaster of tears and choked screams and wrinkled clothes that smelled vaguely like Ken's lotion. When she arrived at the Yagami's place, she firmly believed she'd be there. But it was a Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Hikari came home later, as she remembered the instant Taichi opened the door. They exchanged a look that lasted seconds, where she was asking for something and Taichi had no idea how to answer.

"Miyako, what—,"

He didn't get to ask what had happened. Miyako was clinging to his chest, taking fistfuls of his shirt in her hands and drowning her tears in it. Taichi was cemented on the spot, feeling a shiver run down his spine, the heat of her tears pooling through the material of his shirt. _What do I do?_ he thought, and he did the only thing an emotionally stagnant young man would, patting her on the head.

Miyako peeled herself from him, enough to see him through puffy, red eyes; make-up completely ruined. Taichi offered her an awkward smile.

"I don't—I don't know, can I offer you something?"

The girl blinked, then hiccuped with a smile, drying her tears against the back of her hand. Taichi did what he could to extract himself from her, closing the door and walking towards the kitchen before she could find him an appropriate handkerchief again. He brought her a glass of water, offering it dully.

"You need to replace all _that_ ," he said, gesturing towards the mess that was Miyako's face. She took it, hiding her smile behind the edge of the glass and trying so hard to keep her tears in check this time. During the whole while, Taichi sat opposite her, watching her warily, as if afraid she'd start screeching if he moved too suddenly.

"Ken and I broke up," she finally deadpanned, earning his attention. Taichi opened his mouth but, to the day, could not remember what he had said.

 **XII.**

It was until he got home that he realised something was wrong. He frowned as he saw the lights on; he knew Hikari wasn't home yet and he was sure he'd turned all the lights off before leaving. Opening the door warily, he raised an eyebrow when he saw the young woman lounging casually in his living room.

"Taichi," she said, getting to her feet. Her hair was tied up in a tall ponytail; she had come straight from work. He knew it because of the wrinkles on her dress shirt, and because it was untucked messily over her skirt.

"Miyako," he replied, only a few seconds too late. Carefully, he closed the door and leaned agaisnt it, watching her under a curtain of thick lashes.

"Hikari told me to wait here," she said, feeling the need to explain herself. "I didn't know—well, we didn't think you'd be home today."

"Nah," he said carelessly, "Mimi has too much to do in the morning. I didn't want to get in the way."

"Oh. Of course. How considerate."

"You know me," he said, casually shrugging his shoulders. Stepping away from the door, Taichi hung his keys and walked in, removing his shoes and loosening his the knot of his tie as he planned a shower before bed. "Well, if you need me, you know—tell Hikari to find someone else to bother."

"You're going to marry her, aren't you?"

The smile was so short-lived that Taichi doubted if he had made a joke at all. He ran his fingers through his hair, hiding the other hand deep inside his pocket. Miyako was staring at him over her shoulder, locks of lilac hair falling messily over her back. For a moment, with the right light—he could almost believe it was Mimi. But then he blinked softly, sucking air and letting it out because it didn't matter how many times he tried, he could never replace her in his eyes, or his heart.

"I hope so," he said, and his voice was laced with that same crude hope that had accompanied him during the years he had waited for her. "Is it so obvious?"

Despite his answer, Miyako laughed and shook her head.

"No," she said. "I just can't imagine anything else."

 **V.**

His fingers made play of exploring her body, his touch soft and curious. Taichi thought her curves wonderful, her long legs, the soft mound of her breasts. Everything about her was foreign and at the same time, familiar. They had started innocently enough, without him thinking much of it. It was as if since that night in which she had cried against his chest, they had agreed to some sort of scret affair, a stupid game that neither of them knew how to play very well.

Miyako would arrive at his home and they would be a mess of curious hands and hungry mouths. She found him a delicacy, and delighted in discovering every line and every muscle that would have taken years to define. He was different from Ken, stronger, heavier, more _Taichi_. On his behalf, he found her delectable with sharp curves and mysteries that with so little could distract him from other, softer and more dangerous. It was like changing a drug for another, and they both knew it.

"I'm not her," Miyako claimed once she found him staring at her with eyes that belonged to Mimi. Taichi took long to answer and when he did, she swore she could hear his heart breaking.

"I know," he murmured. " _Trust me."_

The day Mimi announced she came back to Japan was the day her world turned upside down again. She would never forget the look on Taichi's face, the stupid smile that came upon his lips as he heard _she'd_ come back. When she cried, she didn't know if it was due to her excitement or the realisation that she was wrong, that Taichi would never look at her like he looked at Mimi.

Not even when she wasn't around.

 **XIII.**

The summer festival was one of Mimi's favourite events, something she had missed more than Taichi, according to her. Since her return, they had not missed one traditional celebration, something that ended up being nicer than they'd admit. The park was full with people, the lights shone brightly like static fireflies around them.

They were crouching on the shore, their toes curled in the cold sand. Mimi's yukata was a soft green with delicate pink cherry blossoms; Taichi's was gray with a complicated pattern that frankly, made his head hurt. But there were moments in which he ought not to complain and he knew this to be one of them. He took Mimi's sparklers from his pocket and handed them to her carefully. They lit them together, watching them burn and sparkle and be consumed slowly, cheering up the atmosphere and the darkness as if they were magic.

"You know," Mimi began, her voice like a beacon that called him back home, "this moment, right here, right now ... this is my favourite in the world."

"Why?" Taichi dared to ask, stalling but also genuinely curious. "We've been here hundreds of times, Mi."

She drew closer, kissed his lips softly.

"Every moment with you is my favourite," she told him, "first one, then another."

He felt her smile against his lips and reflected the action. He ran a nervous hand throuh his hair, turning to find Yamato, who watched him from afar and nodded just once before discretely turning his attention to the redhead that was animatedly talking with him as they lit their own sparklers.

"Mimi..."

"Yes?"

"We could do this, always. You know?" he said, touching his thumb to his chin, glancing at her. "If you, well, if you'd like."

Mimi looked at him with eyes that shone like that summer night, both eyebrows high up and an echo of a smile on her pink lips.

"Always?" she asked, taking the hand he offered to get up.

"Always," he repeated, slipping the ring onto her finger. Mimi looked at it for only a second and then back at him and he knew the desire to scream was trapped in the back of her throat, that her tears were stuck in the corner of her eyes. So he kissed her, softly and then more insistently until she melted in his arms and hid her face in the curve of his neck, coming as close as she could.

When they broke apart, Mimi took a huge breath and offered him the same smile he had fallen in love with so long ago, that one he had learned was just for him.

"How long did you carry it in your pocket?" she asked, admiring what she thought was the most beautiful ring in the world. Taichi gestured carelessly, letting his shoulder rise and fall with disinterest.

"A couple of weeks," he said. Mimi arched an eyebrow. "Or months, whatever."

She threw herself into his arms again, kissing his neck, his jaw and finally—his mouth. Taichi had to make an effort not to fall into the water, holding her small figure with his big hands.

"Thank you for waiting," she whispered in his ear. "You're everything I ever wanted."

"It was worth it," Taichi replied, holding her closer. "You're all I could ever want."

 **VI.**

She wore her hair loose and she had curled the tips, something that wasn't lost on him. He was looking at her from the balcony where he was sitting. Miyako refused to look him in the eye, and Taichi was losing his patience.

"Your hair," he commented, "it's different."

She brought her hands to her hair, touching it to hide her nervousness while a shy smile found its way to her lips.

"Yeah, d'you like it?"

"Not really," Taichi answered, crossing his arms. "I liked it better before."

Her gaze rose, watching him as she bit her lower lip. Taichi was farther away than they were used to, more into himself than she had seen. She was playing with the hem of her skirt, counting the stitches on it.

"You shouldn't wait for her anymore," she said, surprising him. "Mimi ... she's not the kind that waits, you know? You should move, before someone else does."

Taichi nodded, brown eyes fixed on her hands.

"You shouldn't wait either," he finally said. "In that, at least, you're alike."

He hesitated before leaving but finally, he patted her head softly like he did with Hikari, like he had done with her countless times before. But for the first time Miyako felt the weight of waiting for someone knowing that person would not wait for her.

 **XIV.**

"Do you think we'll have romantic proposals like that?" Miyako asked, her hair loose while she lied on Hikari's bed. The brunette was sitting at the desk, transcribing some notes into a notebook without paying much attention to her. _"Hikari."_

"Of course, Miyako," she said. "You're just too impatient."

"I want romance," she continued, "I want a fairytale, and a prince, and I want to be a princess."

"Like Mimi?"

"No, maybe a different one. You can't compete against her, it's so unfair."

Hikari laughed and Miyako felt butterflies in her stomach as she heard her, turning to see the girl hide her laugh behind a tiny pale hand. Despite being so different from her brother, there were things one couldn't deny, like the way they laughed, or the way they got angry. Her strong temper was something of a secret, like her brother's soft side, almost.

"You're crazy. You know that?"

"No, 'Kari, _you're_ too calm. With Mimi and Sora out of the game it's when we have to make our biggest effort to find a good guy. Before they're all gone!"

Hikari watched her, amused as she paced around the bedroom and until she sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. She softly turned her chair towards her, staring at her while she huffed.

"Miya-chan," she called her. The girl ignored her, decidedly avoiding her eyes. Hikari, taking it upon herself, placed her hands on her cheeks, _making_ her look up. "—calm down, okay?"

"But Taichi—,"

 _But_ she couldn't go on, because Hikari had quieted her with a kiss. She tasted different from what she imagined, sweeter than her brother, softer. But at the same time, her lips were much more sure than Taichi's, gentler, more delicate. When she released her, Hikari's eyes were not shining with desire, or melancholy, or with the effort of wanting her to be someone else. They were calm, and glad, and decided.

And Miyako had no idea what to say.

"Why would you do that?!" she squealed, hiding behind her hands and moving her legs in a frenzy. Hikari sighed, placing a finger on her chin and pursing her lips a little. Miyako tried not to think about how they had tasted just seconds before.

"I think you needed it," she said simply. "I don't know what's up with you lately, but clearly, it's not me."

She returned to her desk and Miyako lied back on the bed, wondering if Hikari was right.

 **VII.**

The first time he kissed her, he knew he wanted that to be his last first kiss. Mimi's lips were softer than he had ever dreamed, sweeter than should be allowed. When he held her, he knew that all the time he had waited for her, for her feelings, for the right moment, had been worth it.

Their time away had not been in vain. Taichi had things to let go of, and so did she. Mimi had left behind a huge part of her life but she liked to say that nothing good ever got away. And when she did, she always winked at Taichi and he felt his chest expanding for knowing her to be his. But the best part was knowing himself to be hers.

He had tried to find her in other skins, but that had never worked, not for him. When he saw Miyako it was so distant, so strange to think of an adolescent affair that had been three parts clandestine, two parts wrong, more of a narcotic than a cure.

But even as a narcotic, it served its purpose. Time passed, and Taichi stopped waiting. He supposed Miyako had, too.

 **XV.**

On the day of the wedding, Mimi was nervous. She was up and down with Hikari and Miyako on her toes, fixing flower arrangement, securing lights, yelling at the make-up artists for ruining the bride's eyelashes. Sora, on the other hand, felt comfortable knowing she had nothing to worry about having left everything in Mimi's hands; her friend would find one way or another to make her day perfect.

When she came out in her traditional Japanese dress to find the man that would be her husband, she knew she hadn't been wrong. And to see Jyou's face, she almost wanted to run and kiss him. The ceremony was conducted to perfection; Mr. and Mrs. Kido Jyou were greeting their guests with unbridled delight, hands clasped together all the time, eyes shining as if it was really the first day of the rest of their lives.

When Miyako came close to offer her congratulations to the newlyweds, her eye was caught by another, further back. Mimi's eyes were shining and Taichi came closer, kissing each one of her eyelids. The action was so soft, so sweet and intimate that her cheeks coloured and she hugged the bride and groom at the same time, hiding her face in Sora's hair.

And when Hikari took her hand and guided her back to their table, laughing at one of Daisuke's terrible jokes, Miyako knew that Taichi had also been right, all that time ago.

There was no reason why she should wait.


End file.
